


Chasing Storms

by saltnhalo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Photographer Castiel (Supernatural), Storm Chasing, YouTuber Dean Winchester, YouTuber Sam Winchester, storm chaser dean, storm chaser sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 18:42:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21450928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltnhalo/pseuds/saltnhalo
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester are world-famous storm chasers operating in North America's Tornado Alley. When they encounter a photographer who does not seem at all prepared for the reality of the tornado that's about to touch down, Dean is less than impressed.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 52
Kudos: 256





	Chasing Storms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cryptomoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptomoon/gifts).

> This was my first attempt at live-writing, and considering I wrote this entire fic in half a day, I'd say it was pretty successful! I wrote this over at [Profound Bond](https://discord.gg/profoundbond), a discord server full of both creators and consumers of fan content, all of us Destiel enthusiasts. It's a great place that I recommend checking out, especially if you'd like to watch me live-write in the future! 
> 
> This is for [cryptomoon](http://cryptomoon.tumblr.com), who has wanted a storm chaser AU for a long time <3
> 
> Enjoy!

It's a quiet morning in the middle of Oklahoma. They're parked at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere, and Dean is sitting a few yards away from the car, soaking up the sun and giving his muscles a little bit of a rest after the hours they've spent driving.

It's been a quiet season so far. They've been driving around for almost two weeks, and there have been a couple of near-events. Storms that had seemed promising but had yielded nothing. Touchdown events that had been too far to feasibly make, or that they'd tried to reach but had missed by mere minutes. It's been... frustrating, Dean will admit.

But that's the nature of the game.

Dean leans back on his hands and sighs, tipping his face up towards the hot Oklahoman sun. In the middle of May, it's certainly starting to get warm, and there's only so long Dean can last out here in his jeans before he retreats back to the Impala and her A/C, and they hit the road again.

"How we lookin', Sam?" he calls over his shoulder, back towards the car.

The setup they have going on is... a little more modern than it had been in their Dad's day, that's for sure. While John had begun his storm chasing career with little more than the Impala’s radio and a rudimentary knowledge of the air patterns throughout Tornado Alley, the tech Sam and Dean use is much safer and more precise, to say the least. 

Sam is the tech whiz and weather guru, and currently he's sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala with the door open, stretching his legs while he props his laptop up on his thighs and checks the weather. "We might have something brewing a couple hundred miles north," he ventures, "but it's a bit hard to tell. From the way things are shaping up, it could be worth checking out. Not like we're having much luck down here, anyway."

They'd made their way south for a storm that had looked promising in southeast Oklahoma, but it had fizzled out before they'd gotten there, leaving them high and dry once more. After having done this for so many years, they're used to the disappointment by now, but Dean would be lying if he said it wasn't starting to get on his nerves. Storms are unpredictable, but it'd be nice if they could make it to at least one tornado this season.

Just one. That's all Dean asks.

"Why not?" he sighs, then climbs to his feet. His back cracks from having spent so long sitting still, and he takes a second to stretch one last time, then dusts his palms off on his jeans and runs his fingers through his hair. "So we headed up into Kansas? Is that where it's looking like?"

Sam doesn't reply—when Dean turns to look at him, he's frowning down at his laptop, totally engrossed in whatever it is he's looking at.

Dean gives it a few more seconds, then clears his throat pointedly. "Earth to Sammy?"

Sam startles, his laptop slipping as he jerks his head up. "What?"

For a meteorological genius, his little brother is really fucking oblivious sometimes. "Kansas?" Dean asks, enunciating his words clearly through his teasing grin. "Is that where the storm's brewing?"

"I'd say so." Sam looks down at his laptop, types for a few seconds, then frowns again. "I actually think we should get going soon. It might be more promising than I'd thought, but there's a lot of ground to cover."

Dean rolls out his neck, then fishes the keys out of his pocket. "Let's get outta here, then. Homewards we go. And hey—if the storm doesn't pan out, then hey, at least we can visit Mom."

If Sam is the weather boy, then Dean is the wheels. Sure, he can read a weather radar, and predict his fair share of storms—anyone can when they've been doing it their whole life—but he'd much rather leave that to Sam. For Dean, the thrill of storm chasing is in the chase itself; in putting his foot as close to the floor as it'll go out on those great long stretches of road in the middle of nowhere, and getting themselves as close as they possibly can to some of the most dangerous natural phenomena in the world.

Dean winds down the window as they drive, ignoring Sam's indignant squawk as the wind catches on the papers he'd been examining in his lap. He rushes to pin them all down, then slides them back into his folder and shoots Dean a glare that burns into the side of his head.

Dean just laughs, and enjoys the feeling of the wind in his hair as he urges the Impala on, further, faster.

They make it across the state line and cross into Kansas sooner than they'd been expecting. "I still don't know how you haven't managed to get a speeding ticket," Sam mutters. Dean does slow down as they approach the town they can see in the distance, but chuckles. 

"Guess I'm just lucky. Let's see if that luck holds, huh?"

Once they're past the town—much to the dismay of Dean's rumbling stomach—Dean speeds up again. Sam thinks the storm is just starting to develop, and if they want to catch any possible tornadoes, they need to hurry.

Still, they _are _both still stuck in the car, and while they're driving without much else to do, they can occupy themselves with other things.

"We haven't done much filming the past few days," Dean muses as he drives. "You wanna grab out the camera? I know we might not get a tornado from this storm, but it's better safe than sorry. Besides, people like to watch us even if we _don't _always get one, which is honestly weird to me." He grins, throwing Sam a joking wink. "Guess the viewers must like the eye candy."

"Yeah," Sam deadpans, "which is why the video I did of my solo chase while you were stuck at that motel with food poisoning did so terribly. Because _you're _the eye candy."

Dean scowls—he’d forgotten about that. Trust Sam to pull it out as evidence. "Whatever, bitch. Just get the camera, would ya? I've got a good feeling about this one."

And so Sam does. They keep their camera equipment in the back, ranging from little GoPros to much more complicated and expensive equipment—they chase for fun, but if they can make some money off it in the meantime, they may as well, right?

They talk to the GoPro for a little while as they drive, updating their last few days and the handful of signs that had turned out not to have yielded anything interesting. Dean tunes out a little bit when Sam dives into the weather details and the geeky side of things as he talks about the storm they're currently going after. They have viewers who are very interested in the scientific side of things and the actual methodology they use to find their tornadoes—and then there are the people like Dean, who like to watch the chase for the thrill of it, and the satisfaction (and beautiful footage) they get when they do manage to make it to a tornado.

He can start to see the clouds on the horizon, and reaches over to hit Sam in the shoulder, interrupting his flow of geekery. "Hey, look." He points over the dash, and Sam turns the camera around to get a shot of their view out the windshield, open road ahead and dark grey clouds beginning to gather on the horizon. "Thar she blows."

Sam gives him a look, and Dean can hear him trying not to laugh. "She hasn't blown just yet, Dean, but I know you're getting excited. Keep it PG, this is for YouTube."

"Shut _up_, Sam. Now I'm gonna have to edit that out, thanks a lot."

Sam just snorts, then shuts off the camera, sets it aside, and pulls up the weather radar on his laptop once more.

The closer they get, the more promising the storm looks. It's big and dark and angry, and the radio is telling them that the area has officially been placed on tornado watch, urging people to be on the lookout for tornado signs. Sam and Dean certainly are on the lookout... just for a different reason than most people might be.

After all, it takes a special brand of crazy to want to head _towards _any kind of dangerous even instead of seeking shelter, but it's a special brand of crazy that the Winchester boys have been raised with all their lives.

Besides, they're not the only crazy ones out here.

They've already gotten word that a few of the usual suspects have started to show up—although not quite as quickly as them. Sam and Dean know everyone who's anyone in this business, and it's not surprising that they're not the only ones chasing this tornado. Hopefully it's _only _the usual suspects who show up, though. Every now and again, some rookie will get the bright idea of taking on a storm all on their own, without any expertise or backup.

Dean has seen that happen enough times to know that it only ends badly.

He doesn't want to think about that right now, though. For the first time this season, they've got their strongest lead, and they're perfectly positioned, right on the edge of where the storm is brewing. They're not in its way, according to Sam, instead just skirting the outer edge and able to move along with it if they have to, so for now... they just have to wait and see if anything touches down.

They get word of other chasers setting up around the edge of the storm—not that they're close to anyone else, not that they can see. There are still cars on the road, likely rushing to get indoors now that the sky is turning dark and menacing, but few are parked and waiting like they are.

At least, until another car pulls up at the same outlook they're parked at, just a few yards away.

It's small—a fucking Honda Civic or something, by the look of it—and Dean isn't expecting it to stay. Anyone driving a car like that shouldn't be out when a tornado really gets going. The only reason Dean and Sam use the Impala instead of trading in for something a little more solid is because it was the car John had first gone chasing in, and it holds a sentimental value. It's by no means a beginner's car, but they've learned by now how to keep it and themselves safe, so it's a risk they're willing to take. Besides, it's what's made them so recognisable. Everyone knows the Winchester boys by their car.

Whoever's in the Civic, though? Dean is willing to bet that they have zero experience with just how dangerous tornadoes can be.

After five minutes, the car still hasn't moved. The windows are tinted, and so Dean can't quite get a good look at whoever's inside, whether it's one person or more, old or young, guy or girl. Whoever they are, though, Dean's willing to bet they're a fucking idiot. 

When it reaches the ten minute mark, Dean shakes his head in frustration and opens his door. "I'll be back in a sec," he grumbles to Sam. "Make sure you yell if something changes, okay? I don't want to miss this just because some Civic-driving asshole thinks they're suddenly a pro storm chaser."

And with that, he climbs out of the Impala, slams the door behind him, and stalks over to the other car.

Dean crouches down to eye level with the dark-tinted window and raps on it sharply—once, twice. A few seconds pass, and then the door opens. Dean steps back to let it swing out all the way.

"Can I help you?"

The voice is deep and rumbly and not at all what Dean was expecting. It takes him aback, just for a second—

And then he gets his first look at the man it belongs to, and any remaining thoughts he may have had fly out the (metaphorical) window.

The guy—because it's a guy, probably about Dean's age, in his mid to late twenties—has bright blue eyes and hair so messy that it looks as though he's been caught in a storm already. A quick scan of the rest of him reveals a good quality, well-fitting t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans that hug some _really _nice-looking thighs, and why did Dean come over here again?

Fuck, that's right. The storm and the possible tornado and the dark haired, blue eyed idiot who definitely does not look prepared for what's about to hit southern Kansas.

"Why are you parked here?" Dean asks. It's not the best conversation starter, but it's the first thing that comes to mind.

The guy narrows his eyes, looking up at Dean and then pointedly over at where the Impala is parked. Sam has been watching them, although not very tactfully, and when the guy looks over, he very quickly pretends that he's fiddling with a GoPro and has not been paying attention to them whatsoever. "I could ask you the same question," the guy says, a little abrasively.

Dean barely refrains from rolling his eyes. Anyone in the storm chasing business could recognise the Impala on sight, as could any storm chasing enthusiast with access the YouTube, so the fact that this guy has no idea who they are (and therefore is much less likely to trust their advice) does not bode well.

"We're storm chasers," he says drily. "We're here to try and catch a tornado."

The guy shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. "So am I."

_The fuck?_

"Have you... ever actually _chased _a storm before?" Dean asks, trying to gauge just how fucked this guy might be if a tornado does touch down today. 

"No," the guy says, as if that's not a huge worry, "but I've gotten advice from a few people. I work for National Geographic, I have a pass, I've been tasked with photographing a tornado. Now, if you wouldn't mind?" His words have been matter of fact, as though he's keen to get the conversation over with, and now he makes a slightly dismissive gesture. "I have work to do."

Dean can't help the way his mouth falls open slightly, shocked at just how relaxed this guy seems to be about parking his light-ass little car so close to a potential tornado zone, with him in it and no skills as to how to avoid the most dangerous areas of the tornado zone. "Seriously?" Dean asks, incredulous. "Dude, I don't know if you realise just how dangerous it is out here. You really shouldn't be doing this without an experienced chaser as a guide."

"I fail to see how it can be that difficult. I can get a good photograph from here, and if the tornado comes my way, I can just... drive away from it."

There's a long pause. Dean looks at the guy, and the guy looks at Dean. Finally, Dean says, "You realise how monumentally fucking idiotic that idea sounds, right? Why don't I call National Geographic right now and just tell them to hire another photographer, because the chances of Ballsy McIdiotson in his little Honda Civic making it back are looking slimmer and slimmer."

The guy bristles. "_Firstly_," he scowls, "it's _Castiel Novak_, not... whatever that name was. And secondly..." He pauses, and Dean can see him thinking. Can see the denial in his eyes, but also the worry. "It can't be that dangerous, surely?"

Dean... stares. He stares at the guy for a good few seconds, because he's trying to figure out if he had actually heard what he thinks he heard. It can't be that dangerous?

"Alright, _Castiel_," Dean starts—and what the hell kind of name is Castiel, anyway? "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say one of the dumbest things I've ever heard anyone say. I'm just going to tell you that some tornadoes can be over a mile wide and hit a top speed of seventy miles an hour. I'm going to tell you that they are _extremely _dangerous, no matter how many you've chased or how prepared you think you are. And I should know, because my dad taught me everything I know about storm chasing and tornadoes, which was a lot, and he was still killed by one. So trust me when I say I know what I'm talking about, and that you _very much should not be here _if you value your life."

He takes a deep breath—that had gotten a little more out of hand than he'd been expecting. 

Castiel's face has fallen more and more throughout Dean's mini-rant, and there are a few seconds after in which neither of them speaks, until Castiel says, "I'm sorry."

Dean blinks. "For... what?"

"For the loss of your father, and..." Castiel takes a deep breath. "And for being ignorant. I didn't know all that, I just—I figured I could sit on the edge of the storm here, and not be in danger, and get my photographs from here."

What kind of person comes all the way out here with a plan like _that_? "Firstly," Dean says, and now there’s a tinge of amusement in his voice, "it's still dangerous to be on the edge like this. The winds are still strong out here, and they can change direction and impact the tornado, if and when it pops up, very quickly. The safest place to be is indoors. And secondly..."

He pauses and thinks for a second about whether he actually wants to say this. Whether he wants to offer. He's never done this for anyone else, but Castiel has electric eyes and storm-wild hair, and there's magnetism to him, despite his ignorance. He's clearly not afraid of a little risk, he just... doesn't know how to make sure that it's _well-calculated _risk.

_Ah, fuck it_, he thinks.

"You wouldn't have gotten any good pictures from up here, anyway. You want to be down where the action is, up close and personal with the tornado. Someone like you trying to do that would get themselves killed, but if you're with people who have experience and a moderate lack of self-preservation..." He shrugs and makes a small gesture back towards the Impala, where Sam is sitting, focused intently on his laptop. "Well, it makes for a pretty fucking awesome experience."

Castiel glances over at Dean's car, then back up at Dean, a confused frown creasing his brow. "I—what are you saying?"

"The way I see it, Cas—" Castiel's eyebrows raise at the nickname, and Dean momentarily kicks himself, but it's too late— "you have two options. You turn around and you get yourself and your car back to somewhere that's safe, or you leave it here and... you come for a chase with me and my brother."

Castiel's eyes widen. "I—are you sure?"

_Not really._

"Why not? What's the worst that could happen, right?" Dean flashes him a quick, cheeky grin, and in the slowly darkening light, he swears he sees Castiel's cheeks flush.

Cas opens his mouth, then closes it again, clearly thinking Dean's decision over, until—

"Dean! Dean, it's forming, we have to go! _Now_!"

Sam has his laptop propped open on the dash, and is already getting their cameras and equipment secured to their mountings in and on the car. Dean feels his adrenaline spike, his heart starting to race with the excitement of a nearby tornado. He turns back to Castiel, grinning. "You heard the man," he says, already backing away towards the Impala. "Gotta make a call. Are you in, or are you out?"

Cas is staring at him like a deer in the headlights now. He looks out to the horizon, where they can see a funnel beginning to take shape, then back at Dean. In a second, Dean sees his resolve firm; sees him make his decision.

He reaches for the bag on the seat next to him, hoists it into his arms, then scrambles out of the car.

"I'm in."

They run over to the Impala, where Dean holds the door open for Cas as he climbs in with his camera bag. Thankfully, he's careful not to sit or step on any of the very expensive equipment they have stored back there—after all, any professional photographer should have a healthy respect for the cost of equipment—and instead, gently moves it aside to make a place to sit.

Sam exchanges looks with Dean as he climbs into the driver's seat, pausing in his manic preparations to shoot Dean an expression that very clearly says, 'Uh, what the fuck?'

"He's a photographer," Dean explains as he fires up Baby's engine. "Cas, this is my brother, Sam. Sam, that's Castiel, he works for National Geographic and thought he was going to get a good, safe photo from out here."

Sam snorts. "Yeah, right," he says, prompting an indignant "Hey!" from their passenger in the backseat. 

"We've been over this, Cas," Dean teases, even as he hits the gas and they reverse out of the parking spot in a squeal of tires, then take off along the road. "You don't have a leg to stand on, so shut up, hold on, and for the love of god, make sure you get some good photos."

It takes him a second to realise just how informal he's being with the guy, considering they met not even two minutes ago, but when he looks into the rearview mirror for a moment to make sure he's not being given the stink eye, he finds Castiel watching him, the faintest hint of a surprised smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Sir, yes, sir," he says quietly, letting his smile morph into a proper grin before he ducks his head and continues fiddling with the camera in his lap.

There's a tingling in Dean's chest that he's pretty sure he can't entirely chalk up to the currently-forming tornado in the near distance. He allows himself one quick smile, then clears his throat, focuses his concentration, and puts the fucking pedal to the metal.

As they get closer and closer, the tornado becomes more fully formed. It starts amongst the clouds, the top of the funnel thick and wide and slowly tapering as it reaches towards the ground. "This baby's gonna be huge!" Dean shouts in excitement as they tear along the road towards it. 

Cas is leaning forward now, wedging his elbows over the bench seat in between Sam and Dean with little care that they're two people he's only just met. Sam gives him an odd look, just for a second, but Cas doesn't seem to notice, too focused with pointing his camera out through the front windshield and taking photographs of the slowly forming tornado dead ahead of them. 

"We'll get a little closer, and then we'll pull over for a second so you can get some good photos before we get in close to where the rain and lightning is happening, okay?"

All Dean gets as an answer is a muttered _mmhm_, Cas far too focused on his camera to form a proper response. It's fine, Dean gets it. Instead, he turns his attention on Sam. "You filming, Sammy?" he asks.

Sam gives him a quick thumbs up, then keeps fiddling with the GoPro in his hands. "The car-mounted cameras are filming, I've got the GoPro for the basic stuff and then a proper camera ready for any artsy shots we might get a chance for." He turns on the GoPro and holds it up, giving it a little wave. "Alright," he says to the lens, "we've finally found one! Also, we managed to pick up a straggler—say hi to our viewers, Cas!"

Castiel glances up from his camera, and unwedges one of his elbows to give a quick (albeit confused) wave, then turns to Dean. "You have viewers?"

"We have a YouTube channel." Dean shrugs. "It's fun to teach people about this stuff, and pays some of the bills, y'know? Little bit of a side hustle." He shoots the camera a wink, then looks back at the road as Sam gives a little bit of information about the tornado ahead, then sets the GoPro aside.

The tornado is touching down now, the very bottom of the funnel twisting into a field a mile or two ahead, and Dean's heart is hammering in his ribcage. It's been almost a year since he's been this close, and he'd almost forgotten how exhilarating it could be.

"Let's pull over here," he says—mostly to himself, since his two companions are both engrossed in their respective cameras, and he's the one driving. The Impala skids to a stop on the side of the road, and they leave the engine idling as they jump out, Sam with the fancy filming equipment, Cas with his camera, and Dean with the GoPro. It's so fucking windy out here that it almost knocks Cas off his feet, but Dean, who's more than used to keeping his footing in conditions like this, is quick to grab onto his arm and keep him grounded.

"Careful!" he shouts, one hand holding his GoPro while he films and the other keeping Cas steady by his elbow. "Can't have you flying off on me now, who knows where you'll end up!"

"I've always wanted to go to Oz!" Cas shouts back—when he looks up from his camera, he's grinning, and there's a light in his eyes that Dean is intimately familiar with. "I'm sure there would be lots of amazing things to photograph!"

Dean's laugh feels like it's been startled out of him. God, how does he like this guy so much already? He's so glad he invited him out here—now he gets to feel what it's _really _like to be so close to a tornado. He can feel the electricity in the air, the wind ripping and pulling at him, the thrill of being so close to something so dangerous. So powerful.

They stay there for a few more minutes, until the proper part of the storm reaches them and suddenly heavy raindrops are hitting the warm asphalt of the road. Dean is the first to retreat back inside the Impala, ready to drive again, and is quickly followed by Sam and Castiel once the rain gets too heavy and begins to threaten their equipment.

They pile back into the car, and this time Cas immediately retakes his spot in the very middle of the backseat, leaning over between Sam and Dean. "This is incredible," he says, as Dean shifts the car into gear and they take off down the road again. "And you make a living off doing this?"

"Try to," Sam says in lieu of Dean, who's pretty busy focusing on the road and the position of the tornado right now. "We have regular jobs and lives in the off season, but this is where we want to be in May and June. Pretty cool, right?"

"Extremely cool."

From then on, they're mostly silent—the only sounds that can be heard are the quick _whoosh-whoosh _of the windshield wipers, and the rumble of thunder up ahead as lightning strikes in amongst the storm. The tornado is still spinning, the funnel beginning to move off to their right, and honestly, it has to be one of the biggest Dean has ever seen. He hopes that they'll get some good footage from this, but even without it, just getting to witness such an incredible phenomenon is always equal parts humbling and exhilarating.

They head closer, until Dean deems them near enough—to go too far is to truly tempt fate, and especially with a stranger, Dean doesn't want to test the limits of the wind's power too much today. Instead, they quickly rig up the waterproof bags for the cameras that can't get wet, then venture into the rain once more to get some more shots.

Dean gets some footage for their YouTube channel, shouting at the GoPro in the hopes that he'll be heard, but he also can't resist getting some sneaky shots of Cas. Out here in the rain, holding his plastic-wrapped camera to his face despite the insistent tug of the wind and the deluge of the storm, he looks like he's in his element. 

He's always respected people who love their jobs, and are good at them, and between the name of Cas's employer and the single-minded focus he's displaying right now, Dean doesn't doubt that he's very, _very _good. And when people like that love what Dean does just as much as he does, and get the same kick out of it?

He's beginning to realise that when it comes to Castiel Novak, he's pretty boned.

They stay put for the rest of the tornado, but remain alert just in case anything changes. It's beautiful and powerful, especially with the setting sun behind it giving everything a slightly golden hue through the rain and lightning. For a while, Dean just stands there beside Cas, relishing in the storm's power and watching as it makes its way across the landscape, very slowly weakening in power until it's wisping into a thin rope tornado, the funnel leaving the ground and snaking up into the air until it's dissipated completely.

The rain and the storm stay, the sky getting ever darker as the sun begins to set. Once they're happy with their shots and their footage, they pile back into the Impala, damp where the rain snuck in beneath their waterproof ponchos and grinning breathlessly from ear to ear.

"So how was that, Cas?" Dean asks, as they make their way back along the road towards where they'd left Cas's car. Sam has taken the backseat, already reviewing their footage and muttering quietly to himself, and so Castiel is riding shotgun beside Dean.

He's still smiling, and still damp, his hair curling behind his ears in a way Dean can't stop sneaking glances at. "That was incredible," he says. "I can't believe I thought it was a good idea to just sit in my car at the edge of the storm. I got some amazing photos, and that was... unforgettable. I really can't thank you enough, Dean."

Dean smiles over at him, warm and soft. "I'm glad you liked it, Cas. It's pretty cool to get to share our world with people, especially like that. I wouldn't let just anyone come chasing with me 'n Sammy."

"Sam," Sam corrects from the backseat, then puts his other headphone over his ear and gives Dean a knowing look in the rearview mirror.

When he looks back over at Cas, he's just... _watching _Dean, an unreadable expression on his face. "Not just anyone?" he asks. "So... why me?"

The question catches Dean off guard. Why _had _he let Cas come with them?

"I, uh—" He swallows, looks out through the windshield as they approach where Cas's car is parked. "Because I—I liked the look of you, I guess. You're attractive, and gave me good vibes, and even though your judgement was a little off... I dunno, I figured I'd take a risk and hope you were good people."

"And am I?" There's a hint of amusement in Cas's voice. "Good people," he prompts, when Dean looks back over at him.

He's smiling, the corner of his mouth curved up just a little, and Dean can't help but grin in return.

"Yeah, Cas. You are."

They pull up beside his Civic, thankfully unharmed and unstolen, and sit there with the engine running while they try to figure out what the next move is.

"I think I've figured out how I want to repay you," Cas says, breaking the silence. Dean watches him and waits, admiring the way the light of the Impala's headlights accentuates the curve of his jaw and the shape of his nose.

"I think I'd like to take you to dinner. If you don't already have plans, that is."

Dean can barely contain his pleasure at the fact that it _sounds _like Cas is asking him on a date. "What, just me? No Sammy?" he asks, his tone teasing.

Cas's face falls.

"I—uh, he can come as well, if he'd like, but I'd hoped it would be... you know, just the two of us."

Dean tries to keep the act going, but can’t keep it up for long and quickly breaks, grinning at Cas and nudging him affectionately in the shoulder. "Relax, Cas, it's okay. I'm not going to bring the third wheel along, he'll understand. Besides, I don't have plans, and who am I to say no when a handsome man who's not afraid of a little wind and rain asks me out on a date?"

It's a gamble, but one that pays off, from the way Cas breaks into a smile even wider than the one before. "A date," he repeats, a hint of wonder and excitement in his voice. "It's a date."

"It sure is. Now how about you jump back into your car, and you can follow us to the nearest town, and then from there we can figure out which romantic country diner you want to take me to. I'm sure we'll have lots of options," Dean jokes.

He winks at Cas, who just gives him an amused eyeroll.

"We can pick whichever one is close and half decent,” Cas declares, “because I'm starving. Romance can be put on hold, for now." Castiel opens the car door and climbs out, taking his camera bag with him, but doesn't close the door just yet.

"And people say romance is dead," Dean mutters jokingly. "I can agree with close and half decent, though. See you back in town?"

Cas nods, and it seems like there's an energy radiating from him, a happiness that hadn't been there before. "I'll be following you, so don't take off after any more tornadoes," he jokes, then closes the door and makes his way over to his own car.

"No promises!" Dean calls with a grin, even though Cas can't hear him. He's a storm chaser and a joker to heart, what can he say?

"Man, you're already gone on him," Sam comments from the backseat, and Dean startles, then turns over his shoulder to glare. 

"Shut up, bitch. I thought you weren't listening."

Sam shrugs. In the light emanating from the camera's display screen, Dean can see him grin. "Got bored. Now, don't we actually need to drive back to civilisation so you can go on a date with your hot photographer? I would've thought you'd be raring to go."

All that comes to Dean's mind is another ‘shut up,’ so instead he flips Sam off and reverses out of the parking area. "Find me the nearest town so I don't have to put up with you any more," he mutters, and from the back, he hears Sam snicker.

It's worth it, though, when he sees Cas's headlights pull out after him and follow them along the road. 

Irritating, nosy little brother or not...

Today's been pretty fucking awesome.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and/or kudos if you enjoyed this!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://saltnhalo.tumblr.com), and subscribe to me on ao3 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltnhalo) <3


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